


rumor has it

by qingting



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, How Do I Tag This, M/M, also there are some minor ocs for like one scene btw, im just gonna post it before i regret it, what the fuck is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 15:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11854791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qingting/pseuds/qingting
Summary: People keep looking at them. Yahaba tries to figure out what is going on.Or,Word gets out that Kyoutani is planning on confessing to his crush by the end of the week.





	rumor has it

**Author's Note:**

> alternate summary: literally everyone in seijou knows that Kyoutani likes yahaba except for yahaba
> 
> also like i know i mostly write rarepairs but honestly i fucking love kyouhaba and i have like 50000 wips for them that i keep forgetting to finish someone yell at me
> 
> also also this is unedited partially bc i dont have a beta mostly bc im too lazy to go back and read through it lol this was gonna be like 1k and then it turned into like almost 3k wtf

It is the Monday two weeks before they go on break when Yahaba notices the staring.

He’s always attracted attention. It’s difficult not to, what with him standing at 185 cm and the highest rank in his class. With his recent appointment to captain of the Seijou volleyball team, he’s quite literally inherited Oikawa’s fanclub. He’s dealt with attention before.

But now when he walks into class, people watch. When he sits down at his desk, they whisper. And when he heads out to find Kyoutani and Watari for lunch, they exchange small smiles, hissing furiously into each other’s ears.

“Did I do something?” Yahaba asks casually, snatching a piece of egg from Kyoutani’s bento. Kyoutani reaches over him to screw off the cap of his green tea bottle and take a swig from it.

“Do what?” Watari replies, cheeks stuffed with food like a chipmunk’s. Yahaba steals his tea back from Kyoutani.

“I don’t know, do something to make all these people look at me all the time?” He’s not too annoyed, he’s just curious. And slightly freaked out.

“Maybe it’s because you’re a skyscraper,” Kyoutani mumbles around a mouthful of rice.

Yahaba grins. “There’s no need to be jealous about the fact that I grew 3 cm since last year and you haven’t grown at all, Kyoutani-kun,” he simpers, rubbing the top of Kyoutani’s head. Kyoutani bats his hand away and scowls.

“Well, it’s been going around that-” Watari starts and abruptly cuts off.

Yahaba can practically feel the hostility coming off of Kyoutani in waves. It’d be enough to make anyone shut up, even him if he weren’t so used to it. “That what?” he asks eagerly, ignoring Kyoutani’s chopsticks coming in from the right to make off with his last piece of chicken karaage.

Watari looks nervously between the two of them. “... That we have a quiz tomorrow!” he answers, laughing sheepishly. “For literature.”

“What.” Yahaba lunges for his notebook, rapidly flipping through the pages. “Damn, that’s my worst subject.”

It doesn’t occur to him until later than the quiz had nothing to do with why everyone keeps staring at him.

 

* * *

 

Okay, now he’s annoyed.

It’s only taken one day for the situation to escalate into people _taking pictures._ Specifically, whenever he stands near Kyoutani.

This morning when they had come out of the club room together people had taken pictures. Earlier, he had chased down Kyoutani, who had stolen his pencil (because he forgot his, the dumbass) and when he had finally caught up people had taken pictures. Now, they’re eating lunch again and people are still taking pictures.

“Do they want pictures of the setter and ace?” Yahaba jokes, shoving his boiling irritation down into the depths of his stomach, letting it coil there and covering it up with his normal peppiness. “I didn’t know the volleyball club got so popular recently.”

It’d be less annoying if they had just come up and asked for pictures. Yahaba’s knows he’s not a looker like Oikawa is, and he might not be as skilled, but being captain of a club as good as Seijou’s volleyball team inevitably comes with some measure of popularity. So he had expected the remnants of Oikawa’s fanbase. He hadn’t expected students from all different clubs and classes (including the captain of the basketball club and their longstanding rival for the gym schedule, holy hell) to try and fail at subtly taking pictures of the two of them together.

“They’re fucking stupid,” Kyoutani snarls, scrunching up his eyes so much Yahaba thinks they might as well be closed.

“Maybe we might get more funding now,” Watari laughs.

It’s kind of weird, though. Oikawa never got this much attention and yet, Yahaba has not received a single confession this year.

“Do you want someone to confess to you?” Watari asks teasingly and Kyoutani freezes up.

Yahaba sits there, unresponsive, before he realizes he thought out loud. “Wh-- no,” he sputters, starting suddenly. “It’s just kind of strange. People approached Oikawa-san all the time.”

Watari nudges Kyoutani playfully. “I think Kyoutani scares them away,” he says, smiling guilelessly.

Kyoutani rolls his eyes. “Maybe people think his personality is even crappier than Oikawa’s.”

“You’re such an ass,” Yahaba counters, popping one of Kyoutani’s sushi in his mouth and suppressing the flinch that should come when he hears the phone cameras click.

 

* * *

 

“So you really don’t know what’s going on?” Hasekura asks.

It is Wednesday. Yahaba still has no idea what is happening.

“Not really,” Yahaba says, fiddling with one of his pencils. He clicks the button on top and pushes the lead back into the barrel as Hasekura exchanges a look with another of Yahaba’s classmates, Akiyama.

“Well?” Yahaba asks when they don’t say anything.

Akiyama frowns. “Well, nothing much is really going on,” he says.

Yahaba smiles. “Don’t give me that,” he says cheerfully. “If nothing much were really going on, I wouldn’t be in everyone’s camera roll by now.”

Hasekura crosses her arms. “It’s not really our business,” she relents, finally.

“I think I deserve to know,” Yahaba says, face still open and calm. “I’m fairly sure it is my business.”

Hasekura’s eyes flick around the room, catching onto the gazes of all the kids watching Yahaba out of the corner of their eyes. “Well,” she starts, dropping her voice, “there’s a rumor going around.”

It is a completely obvious conclusion that Yahaba can’t believe he didn’t jump to. He sets the pencil down on the desk and leans infinitesimally closer to Hasekura. “What rumor?”

She still looks uneasy. “That--”

“Yahaba-san.”

Yahaba turns toward the classroom doorway where Kunimi is standing, idly picking at his nails. “Kunimi-kun!” Yahaba says brightly. “Sorry, can it wait--”

“Afraid not,” Kunimi drones. “Kindaichi doesn’t know how to talk to girls and Kyoutani-san is scaring away all our potential managers.”

“Oh my--” Yahaba stands up abruptly, startling Hasekura and Akiyama who had leaned in close to him. “Sorry,” he says, smiling at them. “I’ll be back soon, so don’t go anywhere.”

When Yahaba gets there, he claps a hand on Kindaichi’s shoulder as a silent reprieve, wrestles the application list out of Kyoutani’s hands, and pushes his head down into a bow, bending forward next to him and apologizing to the first years interested. He does his best to ignore it when one of them tries to surreptitiously snap a quick picture.

After quickly jotting their names down and promising to contact them later, Yahaba gives the form back to Kyoutani and rushes to his classroom.

When he gets back, Hasekura and Akiyama are nowhere to be found.

 

* * *

 

 

“Why,” Yahaba says, feeling something die inside him. “Why.”

Instead of warming up like they were supposed to, the first years have brought their wallets into the gym and are currently compiling wads of cash into a pile. A few of them look over at him, but most of them just ignore him and keep adding to the stash. At this point Yahaba would like nothing more than to leave this school and attend a different one. He hears Wakunan needs a new setter.

It is Thursday. Just one more day before the weekend and hopefully he can come back to a normal school where everyone goes about their day as normal and does not need to stare at him and Kyoutani all the time.

“Please don’t tell me you’re gambling,” he calls across the gym, only to be brushed off yet again. Where did he go wrong? Was he not strict enough, did he not lay his authority down enough? He briefly considers asking Karasuno’s old captain for help before realizing he would rather die than kneel to Karasuno.

Pity. Karasuno’s former captain seemed like he had it under control.

“What the hell are you doing?” he tries this time, squeezing between two first years to be included in the circle. They freeze, gulping nervously and trying to tuck their wallets away quickly before Yahaba pins them with a glare.

“Nothing, Yahaba-senpai,” a few chirp in unison, hurriedly gathering up the big pile of money and stashing it away.

“Nothing, my ass,” Yahaba snaps. “Watari, do you have any idea why they’re putting all their money together?”

Watari sets his water bottle down and comes over. “Huh,” he says, standing behind one of the first years. “Nope.”

Yahaba sighs, covering his forehead with a hand. “Honestly, what is even going on-- oi, don’t think I didn’t see that!” he yelps, gesturing angrily to where Watari is trying to slip one of the first years a few bills.

Watari’s eyes bug out. “Uh-”

“Put the cash away or you’re running,” a gruff voice says from out of nowhere. Yahaba looks up to see Kyoutani’s curiously flushed face and most intimidating scowl.

There’s a few yelps and a “yes, Kyoutani-senpai!” as the first years scramble to put everything away. Yahaba stalks over to Kyoutani and crosses his arms.

“Abusing your privileges as vice captain, I see,” he jibes, prodding him in the side with his elbow.

Kyoutani gives him a look. “Do you want them to keep doing their betting pool thing?”

“No, but I haven’t seen Demon Senpai Kyoutani in a while-- Fujimori, put the phone away. Now.”

Fujimori sprints out of the gym, juggling his phone between his hands, and Yahaba fights the urge to run after him and make him delete the picture he just took.

 

* * *

 

Yahaba honestly thinks he might just murder someone.

After a whole day of people still staring, still taking pictures, still whispering, and now stalking him, Kyoutani, and sometimes Watari, Yahaba had been ready to blow off some steam at practice.

He swears he can feel a vein pop in his head.

“I thought,” he grits his teeth, “I told you to practice receives.” He aims this remark at a pair of second years that had gasped when he had playfully bumped Kyoutani with his shoulder for something that he’s too angry to remember right now.

He presses two fingers to his temples. “Okay, okay, you know what? Let’s do some three-on-threes. That sounds good.”

It’s at times like this that he understands what Kyoutani means when he says he wants to hit the ball to the fullest of his ability, because right now all he wants to do is smash a good jump serve onto the other side of the court.

He splits up the second and third years into teams, sends the first years off to practice receives, and tries to brush off the stray looks he gets.

Mizoguchi goes to help the first years, while Irihata stays to watch the three-on-threes. Closest to him is Yahaba, Kyoutani, and Watari versus Kunimi, Kindaichi, and one of the reserve setters, Okabe.

Slowly, the stress from the day makes its way out out of his back, through his arms, and into the balls he sets for Kyoutani to spike. Tossing for him is rejuvenating, and so is slapping high fives when they take the set.

Kunimi and Kindaichi swap looks when they go to take a drink. Yahaba caps his bottle and stares absently at the fabric of Kyoutani’s shirt stretched against his upper back.

It’s when they get back on court for the second set when problems start arising.

The first years would apparently rather take balls to the face than concentrate on passing to each other. The players on the court next to Yahaba’s team keep stopping in between rallies to look at them. Their opponents on the other side aren’t much better, and even Kindaichi has had his eyes on Yahaba this entire time.

Yahaba drops the ball, quite literally. “What is going on?”

“Yahaba-san, what are you doing?” Mizoguchi yells, scandalized.

Watari frowns. “Let’s just continue playing--”

“No,” Yahaba snaps. “I want to know why we can’t get through just one practice without everyone looking at us instead of focusing.”

The team next to them looks significantly cowed, talking to each other under their breaths. Yahaba turns on them. “What is so important that you literally cannot wait until practice is over to talk about it?”

They shrink under his glare, and for once neither Watari nor Kyoutani is stopping him. He’s about to give them another piece of his mind when Kunimi cuts in.

“There’s a rumor going around about Kyoutani-san.”

“Yeah, I know there’s a rumor going around,” Yahaba retorts, “I think-- wait, it’s about Kyoutani?”

“He’s supposed to confess to his crush by the end of the school week,” Kindaichi adds helpfully. If looks could kill, Kindaichi would be dead on the floor under the force of Kyoutani’s glare. As it is, he looks incredibly uncomfortable.

Yahaba turns to Kyoutani, who refuses to meet his eyes and looks as red as a beet. “You didn’t tell me,” he says accusingly. “Is that why you were so quiet this week?”

“It’s none of your business,” Kyoutani bites out, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Yahaba crosses his arms.

“So how come everyone knew except me?” he asks. “I thought we were friends.”

Kyoutani mumbles something, staring at the ground like it has the secrets of the universe. Yahaba raises an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“I said, I didn’t mean for it to get out,” Kyoutani snarls. “Nobody was supposed to know.”

“Lay off him, Yahaba,” Watari interrupts their public argument, concern bleeding off of him.

Yahaba sighs. “I’m sorry, Kyoutani. But that still doesn’t explain why everyone keeps bothering me about it,” he says, turning on the rest of the club. “If Kyoutani likes someone in his class, that’s his business, not mine.”

Kyoutani shoots a look at Watari, whose gaze flickers between him and Yahaba. “Maybe it’s because you’re best friends,” Watari says hesitantly. “I know I’ve been getting a fair amount of attention.”

Yahaba lets his shoulders slump. “Well, if that’s settled.” He picks up the volleyball again, bouncing it experimentally. “Anyone caught looking at us when they should be concentrating gets to run to Shiratorizawa and back.”

He spares a moment to glance quickly at the coaches. Mizoguchi has gone back to coaching the first years, and Irihata just looks… incredibly tired, much like Yahaba himself.

It’s almost a relief when they close up for the night.

Kyoutani waits for him as he stuffs his clothes into his bag without meticulously folding them like he usually does. Yahaba locks up the club room, and spins the key ring on his finger as they walk off campus.

He yawns, stretching his arms up above his head and feeling the pull in his stomach. “I hope when we come back on Monday everyone’s gone back to normal.”

Kyoutani grunts in agreement. “Had enough of people looking at me all the time.”

“Tell me about it,” Yahaba gripes.

They make it all the way to the convenience store where Kyoutani likes to buy his Kara Age-kun and Yahaba picks up a bottle of tea before Yahaba asks, “You were supposed to confess before the end of the school week, right?”

Kyoutani spends some time looking at the onigiri on display like he won’t ultimately choose the karaage. “Yeah.”

Yahaba spots the brand he likes, tucking it between his arm and his body. “How are you supposed to do that now?” he asks, shifting the bag on his shoulder to a better position. “The school week is over.”

Kyoutani pays for his chicken instead of answering.

When they leave the store, Kyoutani says, simply, “I like you.”

Yahaba nearly drops his drink. “Huh?”

“That’s it,” Kyoutani murmurs. “That’s the rumor.”

“Oh, so that’s why everyone kept looking at me too,” Yahaba says. “Watari sucks at lying to me.”

Kyoutani falls silent, nibbling on a piece of karaage.

Yahaba lets a whine slip of out his throat. “I can’t believe the entire school noticed you liked me before I did,” he complains. “So much for those observational skills Oikawa kept talking about.”

Next to him, Kyoutani withdraws into himself, slipping into a mood, and Yahaba realizes he’s gotten so wrapped up in himself he hasn’t even given him an answer.

“Shit, I forgot.” Yahaba twists the cap back onto his tea. “Rumor has it I like you too, so there’s that, I guess.”

Kyoutani swallows. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Yahaba counts his change, slipping it back into his pocket. “Let’s go to-- whose house were we going to today?”

“Mine, I think,” Kyoutani answers.

“Okay then, let’s go to your house and make out for an hour so I can leave hickeys all over your neck and really give the kids at school something to gossip about,” Yahaba suggests, smiling wickedly.

Kyoutani glowers at him. “Hell no,” he retorts, popping another piece of karaage in his mouth. “I’m done with people taking pictures of me.”

“So you’re opposed to the making out part?” Yahaba asks innocently.

Kyoutani clears his throat. “I didn’t say that.”

 

* * *

 

“How’d everyone find out you were confessing?”

“I tried to text Watari but I accidentally ended up texting this kid in my class instead.”

A laugh. “Well, at least you didn’t text Oikawa-san.”

“Don’t make me think about that.”

**Author's Note:**

> please. please please please talk to me about kyouhaba @ yaoyoroses on [tumblr](https://yaoyoroses.tumblr.com/) i love them so much please
> 
> also like sorry this is super unrealistic only the asshole that nobody likes at my school takes pics of ppl like that


End file.
